from smoke and ashes (hell is unleashed)
by DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: They broke her, and now they're going to pay the price for that. Warning for murder, torture, and... quite a lot of pain.


**Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.**

 **Written for; Assignment 9;** Arts and Crafts, 6; Something breaking or broken.

 **Word Count - 1766**

 **Beta'd by Amber**

* * *

 **from smoke and ashes (hell is unleashed)**

* * *

 _The more connections you have, the easier it will be to break you._

They took Arthur first. They made Molly watch as they drained the blood from his limp body. She screamed until she was hoarse and then she screamed some more.

A cruel smile revealed yellowing teeth. "You didn't really think you were going to live, did you?"

The worst of it was that Molly had thought that. After the long fought war, after the battles that had stolen Fred and Ginny from their lives, she'd thought that they could finally have some peace.

The Dark Lord had won in the end, yes, but _they'd been allowed to leave_. They'd been allowed to return to their home, to grieve together and to try and put the jagged edges of themselves back into some semblance of a happy family.

They had been having a peaceful evening. Molly had been knitting, her favoured activity now as it kept her hands busy and stopped them from shaking so much. Arthur had been dozing in front of the fire, and the kids (they would always be kids to her, no matter how old they got) were sitting together, talking quietly.

Molly had felt almost content.

They took her family one by one, each death more horrific than the last, and they made her watch _every single one of them._

"You shouldn't be so surprised. You killed Bellatrix."

Molly wanted to deny the words. She wanted to scream that she hadn't actually meant to kill anyone, she'd just been protecting her daughter. Like any mother would.

She hadn't meant for any of this.

"Are you going to kill me?" she asked, hanging limply between two masked figures, her voice little more than a rasp after the abuse her throat had taken while she screamed.

A high laugh, a hiss, a shake of a head.

"Oh, no, Molly Weasley. No, you'll have to live with this, with what you've done. You caused this. They're dead _because of you._ "

The hands supporting her disappeared and she slumped to the floor, curling into a fetal position. A wave of a wand and the remains of her family went up in flames, burning, burning _, burning,_ until all that was left was smoke and ash.

Molly remained on the ground, her tears soaking into the soil beneath her.

…

She was found on the ground by the remains of the Order, picked up and carried inside. She didn't know why they'd done that. Why would they move a shell? That's all she was now. She didn't ask.

She didn't care.

It didn't take long for her to realise they were watching her closely. Too closely. Suicide watch, her mind supplied for her. She'd been on the other side of that with Remus when Sirius fell through the veil.

"I'm not going to kill myself," she announced one day, the first words she'd spoken. "So you can all leave."

"We can't leave you here by yourself, Molly," Minerva said, her voice clearly meant to be soothing. It was just grating to Molly, who didn't want to hear the words of anyone not her family. "Why don't you come and stay with me for a while? My house is safe and well protected and -"

"No. They won't come back, I'm safe here."

"How do you know they won't come back?"

Molly turned dead eyes on Minerva, who couldn't stop herself from flinching back. "They want me alive. They want me to suffer. They won't come back for me."

…

They left eventually. Molly showed that she could function. She spent hours cooking and cleaning and knitting. She didn't say anything more, but they realised that was by choice.

Nobody knew how to help her, so they decided to let her grieve in her way. As soon as she was alone, all thoughts of cooking and cleaning fell to the wayside.

Molly clicked her knitting needles together furiously creating line after line of intricate patterns, her colourful wool blending into magnificent shapes.

Raising her scissors to cut the end of the wool, she gasped when the blade slid against her finger, the jolt of _feeling_ foreign after so much numbness.

The physical pain was grounding somehow. Different to the emotional agony that was her life, the physical pain was something to focus on. Something to make her feel less _empty._

The sight of the blood brought about a feeling that she hadn't expected to feel again. She'd only felt it once before.

 _Bellatrix falling to her wand._

 _Power._

 _Control._

 _Triumph._

If making _herself_ bleed brought such a thing about… perhaps she could make herself feel even more by doing it to _someone else._

…

The following day, Molly dismissed the madness of her thoughts. The cold light of day was enough to make her see sense, and she blamed it on the inherent loneliness of living in a house built for nine, all by herself.

…

 _A week later, Molly sharpened her knitting needles._

…

She walked down Diagon Alley slowly. Filled to the brim with sketchy people that Molly would usually move away from, she drew close by them, the edges of her worn cloak sweeping against them.

She needed them to be the ones to attack. She couldn't do this if she had to start it, because she didn't have the conviction.

 _She wasn't a murderer._

She clutched at her bag, her sharpened knitting needles held within, along with a ball of wool. An alibi, if one one needed.

 _She'd given thought to this._

She could see a few smirks when people looked at her, and it made her stomach clench. All of these people _knew_ what the bastards had done to her, to her family, and they dared _smirk_ when they saw her.

Didn't they realise that a single step out of line could have the same thing happening to them? To their husbands, their wives, their _children._

Didn't they realise that none of this was right?

Anger built inside her, a longed for emotion that she couldn't feel before.

 _She wanted to be angry. Being angry didn't hurt so much._

She dipped into an alley and waited. And waited. And waited. Nobody followed her.

…

She followed the same routine for four days. Nobody came.

…

A hand on her shoulder, roughly spun her around and against the wall. Putrid breath, smelling of stale cigars, huffed in her face and she barely stopped herself from gagging.

"You've been hanging around these parts often, little lady. S'almost like you _want_ someone to come and get you."

Molly met his eyes, a vicious smirk lifting her lips. "You're right. I did want that."

Her knitting needles pierced his robe easily and his skin even easier. He tried to pull away but she followed him, jabbing again and again against his stomach until he was slumped against the wall, blood leaking from his mouth.

She pierced him until the light left his eyes and he fell to the floor, blood pooling around him.

For the first time since that late night visit from the Death Eaters, Molly slept the night through.

…

The rush from that moment in the alley kept Molly going for almost a fortnight. She ate real food, slept in her bed, cleaned the house and even sang along to the radio for half an hour, until she realised what she was doing.

 _It didn't last._

Thoughts of the people smirking at her in Diagon Alley filled her mind and she dreamt of hurting them, of wiping the smiles from their faces. She dreamt of light leaving eyes and blood pooling and screams and cries.

She dreamt of revenge.

…

Molly was ruthless. They stared at her with fear when she cornered them, the silver glint of her knitting needles the only warning of what was coming for them.

She laughed when she was done.

…

She was disappointed when the rush started lasting less time. Each time it was over sooner and her skin started crawling again.

Her hands shook.

She couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't think.

…

"You were there that night, weren't you?"

Blonde hair shone in the light and a laugh sounded from the man in front of her. He hadn't even pulled his wand out to defend himself, didn't understand who she was, who they'd made her.

"And if I was?"

"I'm going to make you regret it," Molly murmured, her tone soft. "Just you wait, Lucius Malfoy. You'll regret leaving me alive."

…

Revenge was a vicious circle, Molly mused to herself. They killed her family to get revenge on her for killing Bellatrix, and now Molly was killing the family members of the Death Eater's who killed her family.

Not that the circle could go any further. There was nobody left for Molly to care about, nobody and nothing left for them to take from her.

Eventually they'd kill her. It wouldn't be a punishment.

…

Usually, Molly chose not to kill those that were still teenagers. Those that were the same age as her youngest.

For this one, she'd make an acception.

He trembled under her burning gaze. His mother lay dead already, an easy target since Molly had hit her from behind, stabbing her just one in the neck. It hadn't taken long for her to take her last breath.

"Are you going to kill me?" he whimpered, and her knitting needles twitched in her hand.

"I asked that question myself once," she told him quietly, running the sharp silver over his cheek. "I'm kinder than they were to me though. _I'll make it quick_."

…

She sat in Arthurs armchair, her needles clicking together furiously as she worked. She'd heard the sounds of apparition around the Burrow, but she paid them no mind.

She knew who they were and why they were there.

The door burst open, and the room was flooded with silver masks and black cloaks.

Molly looked up at them. "Are you going to kill me?"

A mask was removed, and Lucius Malfoy met her eyes. She could see his own were rimmed red and flashing furiously.

"Did you kill them? Did you kill my family?"

Molly's lips twitched into a smile. "Hurts, doesn't it?

"Why?" he whispered. "I would never have thought that you could -"

"Do you like this scarf? Arthur always gets so cold in the winter, he needs lots of scarves. I think the stripes really make it attractive, don't you?"

" _Avada Kedavra_."

 _Molly Weasley was dead, but she'd been broken long before she took her last breath._

* * *

 **Written for;**

Hunger Games - Serial Killer!AU / Ruthless / Fear / Knitting Needles / Molly Weasley / "Are you going to kill me?" / Tragedy

Character Appreciation - 27. Pureblood

Book Club - King - Threatening someone / Revenge / Cigar / Lucius Malfoy

Showtime - 4. Protecting

Amber's Attic - 14. A peaceful night being interrupted.

Emy's Emporium - 14. Molly Weasley

Angel's Arcade - 6. Dr. N. Brio - Tragedy / Death / Silver

Lo's Lowdown - D6. "The more connections you have, the easier it will be to break you."

Bex's Basement - 19. Write about someone losing a child.

Zoo - Tiger Enclosure - Stripes / Diagon Alley / Disappointed

Fantastic Beasts - 3. Vampire - Blood / 11. Azerbaijan - Burning

72 Hour Speed Comp - Blue 1. Empty


End file.
